


Whirlwind

by LadyCoccinelle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, a little its not that bad, this boy needs more love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCoccinelle/pseuds/LadyCoccinelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalie was no psychologist. In fact, she was hardly someone you would seek comfort from. But for Adrien Agreste, there was no one to turn to in this cold, empty house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whirlwind

**Author's Note:**

> Quick drabble inspired by this http://thewonderfulwizardofass.tumblr.com/post/137561522793/dont-repostedit-without-my-permission-first-hey 
> 
> I wanted to write about angsty Adrien Agreste again. I swear I love him, but the angst is just too strong. Also, I’m interested in Nathalie’s character. Everyone is probably super ooc sorry.
> 
> Thank you for reading !

It had been month since the last time, the last crisis, or, as Plagg called it “hollowed insecurity crisis.” Mind you, he could have lived without another one of those, but as time went, they just seemed to happen more often, leaving him more broken each time. He wished he was strong enough to get back on his feet, fight back, but his forces were leaving, he couldn’t come up with the positive thoughts of the first time. As he stared blankly at the wall in front of him, he wondered how many he had to go through again before his consciousness would dissolve. “Certainly not many,” he thought absently, ignoring Plagg hovering in front of him, trying to get his attention, doing everything to save his charge for another night full of pain, sobs and willowing. Adrien might be the hero Chat Noir, but really, he just felt like a powerless, empty adolescent boy.

Sitting in front of his door, his back against it, he replayed the earlier scene in his head, probably twisting some part of it in his desperation and the black hole of insecurity he fell in.

Things didn’t go very well that day. He had been exhausted after his shoot the day earlier and school just seemed to want him pined against his chair until he rot. Then an akuma attacked and he had felt completely useless at his Lady’s side, even if she assured him otherwise. He just wasn’t good enough for her and everything he did never seemed to get anywhere, although maybe it was better that way. He didn’t want her to find him in this state, to see what he truly was. A rotten boy to the core, puppet of his father. His was cruelly reminded of that fact when coming home, barely standing because of his tiredness. His father had been standing tall, straight as a statue, looming over him as he waited at the top of the staircase, his eyes boring into him, the only things he could only see. He had felt dread wash over him, from head to toes, a painful fear creep his spine, taking hold of his arms and legs, leaving him standing there like an old tree incapable of anything.

He got the stare, the stare which meant that he wasn’t good enough for his father, that although all he did for him, he was still a failure, he still displeased him. He felt shame grip his stomach, wondering what he did wrong this time. The reason was soon giving to him: he’s too tired and people are starting to believe his father is overworking him. And without other words, his father left and he stood there, his voice echoing in his head, hurting him as they kept coming back and forth, each time more powerful.

So he just sat there, his back against the door, the cold creeping from everywhere, thoughts barely coherent, seeing but not really seeing at all. His limbs felt so heavy, he would never move again he remarked absently, staring at his ceiling that seemed to just mock him back. The great Chat Noir, defeated by a mere glare, simple words coming from the mouth of his father. How could he protect Ladybug while he couldn’t even save himself? And the entire city, his friends? What would his father think if he discovered the existence of his alter-ego? Would he be pleased? Certainly not, he thought darkly. He would probably admonished him for doing something other than go to school, work, smile and be the perfect son he had to be every single day.

A knock sounded behind the door, taking him by surprise. He didn’t even have the energy to ask who it was, for what reason they were disturbing his wailing in self-pity.

“Adrien?” Came an unsure voice. It was Nathalie, he realized, even more surprised. Then he grunted. It was probably his father sending her to remind him of a shoot or something, not even wanting to see him himself. He felt disgusted at her even if he knew she was only doing her job. His heart suddenly ached for his mother, her warmth, her soothing voice and he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes but held them back. Now was not the time, he reminded himself.

“Yes?” It was a croak more than a voice and he felt ashamed. He didn’t want Nathalie to know because he knew she would then tell his father and nothing would go well from that. Instead, she tried to open to door and he numbly scooted back from it in fear, hiding in his bed. That was how Nathalie saw him, curled him in a corner of his way too large bed, a lump of bed sheets sitting as far from her as possible. She felt her throat tighten. It was partly her fault if the boy was like that and even if she knew, saw all the signs, she didn’t know what do to and felt hopeless. So she did her job instead, even if she knew she only hurt him more. This time however, the sight was too miserable even for her. She was never the motherly type, didn’t have children, even a husband as all her time was dedicated to her job. But she wasn’t a monster either and seeing this poor, kind boy craving for affection no one would give him, she felt a pang in her heart and taking a deep breath, she stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Both were stunned at the sudden act, and she kept telling herself what she was doing was probably wrong but her heart didn’t seem to want to listen. An awkward silence whirled around the bed, making its way across the huge bedroom that only reminded Adrien how lonely he was, how unloved.

“Do you wish to talk to your therapist?” She asked awkwardly. She felt it was the only thing she could do for him. She looked over her shoulder and saw him shake his head. No.

“A doctor then maybe?”

Shake of the head. A beat of silence.

“Is there something I can do?”

Nothing moved, he sat still, his eyes wide at the words, but he was hidden so she couldn’t see. Something overflowed in his heart and the tears fell from his eyes, droplets of water stroking his too warm cheeks. He stayed silent and she hesitated, waited then stood. It was not in her place to do such things, she reminded herself. She was to stay professional, she should leave. As she was stepping toward the door, a tiny, cracked voice said, barely above a whisper “Stay.”

So she sat again at the edge of the bed, waiting for something else, anything else.

“Can I talk to you?”

“About what?”

“A-anything. Something happy, I guess.”

She fidgeted nervously. She was an excellent assistant, she had to be since she was working under Gabriel Agreste, but a therapist? Not really. Comfort wasn’t exactly her forte. She racked her brain for something to talk about, but she quickly came to the realization she barely knew the adolescent. She had to find something more universal, something she didn’t need to say much to keep him going.

“Alright. What about… Your friends then?”

His head appeared from the bed sheets, a baby face with rosy cheeks, snorts and tears, blond hair wildly poking from everywhere. He blinked in surprise at her and she felt her insides squirt in discomfort. Did the boy even have friends? She felt a sigh escape her lips when he smiled timidly. And then he began, slowly, timidly, telling her about his friends. First was Nino, the boy M. Agreste didn’t like, with his poor manners. She remembered him as lanky and always with a pair of headphones around his neck. He began telling her why Nino met so much to him, how he knew his father didn’t like him, how that situation was hard to deal with. He began to laugh when he told her how he met him on his first day at school. He kept on babbling, describing his friend and she could hear the affection warming his voice. Then he talked about Alya, a girl she didn’t know who seemed to sit behind him in class. How she always seemed so energetic and passionate and protective of her friend Marinette. At the name, Nathalie suddenly clutched that bed sheets, her face gone pale. She remembered the name. A blue-haired girl, blue, large eyes, awfully nervous. With a package. The one she gave Adrien under the name of his father instead. She felt the guilt flare in her chest, her breathing more difficult. Adrien didn’t seem to notice, lost in his description of the shy girl which he wanted to befriend but strangely always seemed to run away from him. But just as he was finally getting better, he stopped abruptly, frowning.

“What is it?”

“Well… I don’t know if we could be considered friends, but I, well I met Ladybug on more than one occasion,” Adrien said and he felt bad for lying, but he couldn’t say it otherwise and strangely, he didn’t want to omit her from his friend. She was his best friend after all, wasn’t he? “And I think we’re friends or at least, I would like to think so. She’s so wonderful, fighting bad guys and saving Paris each time!”

Nathalie quirked an eyebrow. She didn’t know the boy had met the famous superhero and was such a fan. Well it could be an interesting gift idea for later, she thought.

“A-and I wish I could be as strong as courageous as her but… Well, I’m a simple citizen so there’s not much I can do…,” he trailed off.  
They sat in silence again, the atmosphere feeling more alive. Nathalie relaxed a little knowing Adrien seemed to be less depressed.

“Well, I think being supporting of her is enough. You have a lot on your shoulders already so I don’t think you should worry about these kind of things.” The words felt weird in her mouth, as if someone else had said them. She just didn’t know what else to say.

He stared at her, wide eyes, and grinned a smile she rarely saw. One of true joy, not the one he showed for photoshoots. Her heart warmed a little at the sight and she allowed a tiny smile to appear on her lips.

“Well, it seems you are better. If you need anything else, come see me.”

She stood up, quickly moving to the door.

“Nathalie.” She stopped, looked behind. “Thank you,” he said. She nodded and left him alone.

Adrien felt better. Nathalie hadn’t said much, but just the fact that she took her time to hear him out gave him more confidence. He snuggled in his bed sheets, thinking of the conversation. Nathalie wasn’t very good at comforting, but she did her best and even though it wasn’t the motherly warmth he craved for, he appreciated the act.

With a smile, he fell asleep, dreaming of a certain spotted superhero smiling at him, pulling him up back to his feet.


End file.
